AT FIRST Jack wasn’t sure the car was following him.
He hadn’t seen anybody drive out of the motel’s parking lot behind him, though he’d kept a sharp lookout. Then it occurred to him that the motel was located on a quiet side street, and there were only two directions out. Turning left took him directly back to the highway; turning right would only take him to a dusty track leading to a disused gas station that had closed when the highway was extended several years ago, diverting all the traffic that used to pass by. Anybody who wanted to tail a car from the motel only needed to park beside the highway and wait; there really wasn’t any other place to go.
Jack caught occasional glimpses of the tail in his rearview mirror, although the car kept a good distance behind him and sometimes disappeared for minutes on end behind slower-moving traffic. He thought there was only a lone driver in the car, but it never got close enough to be certain.
He reached for his phone and then paused when the car was lost from sight again. A moment later, it reappeared, though so far back Jack reconsidered his certainty that he was being followed. His finger hovered over the key to connect to Sean’s number, and then the car disappeared again. Jack tossed his phone onto the passenger seat with a muttered curse. Sean had instructed him not to engage if he thought he was being tailed, and he valued his hide too much to disobey. But he didn’t know if this was actually happening, and he cringed at the idea of telling his handler that after years of training, he couldn’t even tell if he was being followed or not.
His eyes darted to a roadside sign that indicated a service station ten miles away, and he made a quick decision. Sean couldn’t be pissed at him for testing a theory. He’d confirm, get back on the road, call it in. A little over ten minutes later, Jack pulled off the highway, slowed down, and coasted to a stop beside the gas pumps.
He glanced in his side mirror to see the possible tail car slowly pulling into a parking spot a little distance away. Jack knew it would look suspicious if he just sat here, so he climbed out of his car and walked to the back of it. Unlocking the trunk, he pretended to rummage around, his whole body stiffening in shock when out of the corner of his eye, he saw the door to the other car open.
It meant one of two things: either it really was just coincidence that the car appeared to be following him, because there was no way a professional would get out of his vehicle until he knew what the person he was tailing planned to do, or—and the second option was a lot more chilling—the car had been following him, and the occupants intended to make a move against him. The Center had been working under the assumption that the bad guys planned to follow Jack home and discover the location of the Sutherland family, but it suddenly seemed just as likely they intended to deal with one of the family members immediately. Jack fervently wished he’d stayed on the interstate and made the call; better that Sean thought he was a total idiot than to get caught out like this.
He reached back surreptitiously and flicked the safety catch off his knife. He heard footsteps coming up behind him—and had a brief moment to be thankful there was only one set—before the person was right behind him, barely steps away. Jack held his breath, leaving it to the last possible moment in case the person passed by, but when he felt a hand land on his back, he spun around, whipped his knife out of its holster, and jammed it up against the ribs of the man who stood right in front of him.
The man flinched, but he didn’t pull away. “Jesus, Jack!”
Jack’s gaze flew up and landed on Martin’s face. He swore under his breath, withdrew the knife, and quickly holstered it before hissing, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He felt the adrenaline that had flooded his system drain away, leaving him slightly shaky as the tight lines on Martin’s face eased. “I’m here to ensure you weren’t followed,” Martin said. “Or that if you were, I got a good look at who had you in their sights.”
Jack pulled in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. A second later, and his knife would have been buried deep in Martin’s gut. It wouldn’t have been a killing blow, but it would have done enough damage to put the man into a hospital bed for weeks.
“Shit, Martin,” Jack muttered. “That was too close for comfort.”
Martin laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Come on. We need to get something warm into you. Calm us both down a little.”
He led Jack into one of the restaurants in the service station and pushed him into an empty booth. “Call Sean,” he instructed. “He’ll be anxious.”
Jack pulled out his cell phone and pushed one of the preset keys. Sean picked up on the first ring.
“Where are you?” he demanded.
Jack didn’t know why Sean sounded so pissed, until his eyes fell on the tracking device around his wrist. He had been instructed not to stop and definitely not to engage if he thought he was being followed. Sean must have activated the tracking device and knew he was no longer driving.
“I’m at a service station about thirty minutes away,” Jack replied.
He winced at Sean’s inevitable question.
“Why have you stopped?”
“Why have I stopped?” he repeated, stalling for time. It would be easy to invent a plausible excuse, to say the engine was sounding rough or he needed to use the bathroom. It would certainly save him a tongue-lashing when he got home. But Martin was standing over him, and Jack didn’t know how he would react to hearing a blatant lie. He was just about to reluctantly deliver the truth when Martin gestured for the phone.
Jack handed it over, wondering how deeply in the shit he was about to be shoved, but Martin just winked at him.
“Sean, it’s Martin. I’m here with Jack.”
Jack watched his face as Martin listened to Sean.
“No, he didn’t,” Martin said calmly. “I knew he’d spotted me tailing him, and I didn’t want him to worry all the way home. I flagged him down.”
Jack’s heart leapt. He hadn’t dared hope Martin would cover for him.
Martin was nodding as he listened. “I’m going to get us something to eat. I’ll get him home by five.” He disconnected the call without waiting for a reply.
As he handed back the phone Jack breathed, “Thanks, Martin. He sounded pretty pissed.”
Martin leaned forward and placed his hands on the table in front of Jack, waiting until Jack raised his head and looked at him directly. “You were supposed to drive straight home. You had specific instructions not to engage if you suspected anybody was following you. I didn’t tell Sean you’d gone off script, but I’m not happy about it. If I found out Leo had disobeyed a direct order, an order that was meant to keep him safe, he’d be getting a severe reprimand right about now.”
Jack didn’t have to fake remorse this time. Martin had gone out on a limb for him, but it didn’t mean he supported Jack’s play. He dropped his gaze, resolving to accept his punishment without complaint, but Martin only shook his head.
“We only want to protect you as much as possible, son,” he said kindly. “This is challenging work. No need to make it any more dangerous than it already is. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” Jack said.
Martin straightened up. “I won’t say anything more about it. But there’s only so much slack I’m prepared to cut you, so don’t let it happen again. Now I’m going to go find us some food.”
He walked away, patting Jack’s shoulder reassuringly before he went, and Jack was suddenly glad Martin was on his side. He was no pushover, but he didn’t go out of his way to make things difficult either. Jack felt a deep determination to prove to Martin that he was worthy of Leo’s affections.
Martin returned ten minutes later with a loaded tray in his hands. He pushed a bowl of soup and a club sandwich toward Jack, and then offloaded the same for himself. He kept the large cup of coffee, while shoving a carton of chocolate milk across the table.
“Thought you should avoid caffeine. Didn’t think you needed anything to make your heart race any faster,” he said wryly.
Jack managed a smile, although he was still feeling queasy about how close he had come to gutting Martin. He didn’t think he could face the food in front of him, but once the warm soup hit his churning stomach, he felt a little better. He hadn’t eaten any of the pizza Robert had ordered and realized he was starving.
“Did you learn anything from those kids?” Martin asked.
Jack shook his head. “Not really. It’s like Alex said. They met about once a month, they chatted, ordered pizza, and then took off home. If that’s the way the Sutherland family was traced, we haven’t figured out how yet.”
“I got a text from Leo,” Martin said. “He was heading out to Domino’s to see if he could sniff out anything weird.”
“You think they’re involved somehow?”
Martin shrugged. “Doubtful. But we have to check all leads, especially when we see a pattern forming. We’re doing the same with the staff at the motel. So far they’ve all come up clean.”
Jack frowned. “Looks like that was a dead end. I was sure it would turn up something.”
“We’ll keep at it,” Martin said. “Something will happen sooner or later. So, how are you and Leo getting on?”
It was a sudden subject change, and not one Jack particularly welcomed. It felt wrong to discuss what was between himself and Leo, especially with Leo’s foster father.
When he glanced up, Martin was smiling. “I’m not prying,” he said softly. “I just want what’s best for both you boys. I’d like to think you could talk to me if you were having any problems. Just the way Leo could.”
“Did Leo say anything?” Jack asked quickly.
Martin glanced away briefly, considering his answer, and the knot in Jack’s stomach retied itself. “Just that it’s not easy for you,” Martin answered. “You haven’t been out in the world much—”
“And I don’t know shit,” Jack cut in. “I don’t have any experience. I don’t know the things he knows. He’s probably bored out of his mind—”
“Hey!”
Jack stopped babbling, wincing when he saw the stern expression on Martin’s face. The frown softened when Jack bit his lip.
“Don’t you know he’s crazy about you?” Martin said.
Jack felt his eyes grow wide with surprise. “He is?”
“Jesus, Jack.” Martin shook his head in exasperation. “I don’t know how you didn’t see that.”
“He’s done this before,” Jack said. “He told me he cared about the others—”
“Because he’s a decent, considerate boy,” Martin interrupted. “But he’s never experienced anything close to what you two have. You understand his life, his responsibilities. Nobody else has been in a position to know him in quite the same way.”
Jack mulled that over. It was certainly a huge part of what he felt for Leo, that he had been through the same things Jack had, and they connected at a deep, intense level. It wasn’t such a stretch to think Leo might appreciate the same thing.
“You know he’s turning eighteen soon,” Martin continued. “He’ll be expected to make some choices about his future.” Jack’s blood suddenly ran cold. He briefly wondered if Martin was preparing him for the worst, but his heart surged with elation when Martin added, “I know he’s hoping you’ll be part of that future. Whatever it looks like.”
“I’d like that,” Jack said, feeling suddenly awkward. “I’d really like to make this work.”
“I think you’ll be good for each other,” Martin said fondly. “This is a hard life. I’d like to think he had somebody he could depend on.”
It was very much like something Sean had said to Jack when he expressed his support for the relationship. Jack was glad Martin felt the same.
“Okay. Let’s eat up and get back on the road. Sean will be fretting if I don’t get you home by five.”
“I don’t think Sean is the fretting type,” Jack said dubiously.
Martin laughed out loud. “Sean is the biggest worrier I’ve ever known. Especially when it comes to you. He might hide behind all that gruffness and bossiness, but underneath, he’s a total marshmallow.”
AFTER AN hour of startling revelations, Jack was ready for the road again. Martin walked him to his car and pulled him into a hug.
“Remember, no more disobeying orders,” he warned. “Leo would never forgive me if something happened to you on my watch.”
“No, sir,” Jack said. “Thanks, Martin.”
Martin ruffled his hair. “You’re welcome, son. Safe drive home. I’ll be right behind you watching your back.”
Jack climbed into his car and shoved his hand into his pocket, searching for his keys. He pulled them out, mildly curious when a piece of wadded-up paper fell out alongside them. He unfolded the corners and frowned as he read the message that had been scrawled in red pen: stsp.